disclaimer: I don't own the products or services associated with MARVEL; including thor – this is merely an exercise in creativity
author's note: there is an lack of darcyxsif – this needs to be fixed!
summary: but she is here now and she is content/AUish, stranded!SifxDarcy
Sif has grown good with numbers. On any given day she can rattle off the old battle-wounds that Eir has long since erased and the stories that go with them. She knows the numbers of Hogun's smiles, of the trials she has faced. She still counts the number of prayers that reach her ears, far-flung from realms far away.
(she likes to gather her sorrows)
The Bifrost is still closed.
"Hey," the mortal's face is kind, round with soft peach-skin. "I'm making a taco salad. There's enough for two."
She too, knows how to count – but she sees things through equations: x+y=a, x=2. Her words are like Loki the Swifttongued, sharp and wry and cutting, lacking in his sublety and word play. There is no room at the inn for a misfit.
The Bifrost is closed.
(but tonight she has Darcy's soft peach-skin and tequila and sif is content)